Maid or Not
by St. Minority
Summary: Charlie discovers a new secret about his mentor and likes what he sees. Oneshot


Disclaimer: The characters portrayed are not my property but of R. Dahl, Tim Burton, and all of those other wonderful people who worked on the film.

Charactersfrom 2005 Burton film "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory"

A/N: Please leave a comment if you read. I enjoy hearing all you have to say.

Warning: Tiny use of a knife, cross-dressing, M/M, an older Charlie

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Charlie Bucket hummed an incoherent melody as he strode down the corridor to his lover's quarters. The mentor and his heir did not share living space yet, but they would in upcoming days. The private arrangement the two had made with each other was to wait until the lad had turned eighteen to do so. The same had gone for sexual contact. They refrained from any sort of affectionate touches. That is, until Charlie's birthday came, which had now been three days passed. What they did to each other the night of the celebration was surprising to both of them. It felt outstanding, and they continued to do it, though the agreement was to never expose their secret affair to Charlie's parents. Willy Wonka made that very clear; to keep the whole situation hidden from the Bucket's.

Charlie pulled out his ring of keys and found the golden one he treasured most. He unlocked one of the entry doors and went inside. An old phonograph was playing what he declared as 1940s swing-dancing music. He closed the door and looked around the room. Standing on a wooden chair, cleaning a high shelf of the bookcase with a feather duster, was Willy Wonka. However, Charlie was not sure it was him at first until he crept a little closer. The candy genius was clad in fishnet hose that showed above his black stiletto lace-up boots and went to just over his knees. He wore a short dress that reached his mid-thighs. It was similar to a maid's outfit, no doubt a kinky sort of maid's attire in Charlie's eyes. The clothing had a lace-up front, and was tied tightly like a corset. It accentuated his slender frame and narrow hips. A small white apron was fixed around his waist, and it had a few frills adorning it similar to ones on his black dress. The man's chestnut locks were held back from his face by several barrettes. Charlie let his gaze roam over Wonka's apparel many times, noticing fine details he had missed previous. He found that around Wonka's slim right thigh was a black garter with red ribbon that secured to it a tiny silver charm.

Charlie was impressed. And stimulated.

Wonka turned around and gasped in surprise at seeing Charlie staring at him. His hand clutched his chest as the jolt to his system sped his heart. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as well now that Wonka was facing him. The chocolatier had a layer of make-up on his pale visage. He wore light blue eye-shadow which contrasted wonderfully with his violet eyes, heavy black eye-liner, extremely ruby lipstick, and a dash of rosy blush on his cheeks. Charlie was taken aback. Not only was Wonka an irresistible, beautiful man, but he made an impressively good-looking woman as well.

"Hi, Charlie," Wonka said quietly.

Charlie could tell his lover was embarrassed. He grinned to convey to Wonka that it was alright, and moved toward him. He offered his hand to help Wonka down. The man took it with a white gloved hand and stepped off of the chair. Even with his high-heeled boots, Wonka was still not quite as tall as his heir. He appeared uncomfortable. He was not expecting Charlie at all. It was something he liked to do alone whenever he cleaned.

"Well," he giggled nervously. "What can I do for you, Charlie?"

The eighteen-year-old was aroused. His eyes were lustful, his need building. "Will you come clean my room next?"

Wonka was somewhat taken aback. He eyed his heir suspiciously. "Can't you clean it yourself? I've still got quite a bit more here to do-"

Charlie inched closer, as well as picking up a wood polishing product. He handed it to Wonka and whispered, "Because I want to watch you."

The chocolatier was catching on. He had made Charlie want him with his choice of wardrobe at the moment.

Wonka eased as his own mischievous side came about. He would play along. "Only if you're a good little boy. Is it extremely dirty?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Wonka. It's filthy." He hoped Wonka caught his meaning, and the candy man did; smiling broadly.

"Hows about this: I finish in here and you can _watch_, and then we'll go to your room and you can _watch_ me there."

"Sounds great."

Wonka grinned slyly and his violet eyes glowed wickedly. He pushed Charlie backward and purred, "Have a seat."

Charlie landed in a large, plush armchair. He made himself comfortable as Wonka began fluttering about the room to clean. His watchful eyes took in all of his lover's body movements: swaying hips, bending legs, extended arms and curved back as the candy maker dusted high places. Wonka exaggerated every one of his motions to be more erotic. Charlie was quickly losing himself. He rose from the chair and strode to his mentor.

Wonka closed his eyes and stopped what he was doing. His breath caught for a brief moment. The cold, sharp blade of a knife came to press lightly against the front of his neck. A rush of anxiety and anticipation surged through his anatomy. Warm breath met his skin from behind. He lowered his arms leisurely and dropped the duster from his grasp. He remained utterly still as his young, irresistible heir petted his hair.

Charlie held the knife securely against Wonka's throat with his left hand, while his right moved from the man's silky locks to his collarbone. Charlie continued to urge his palm downward. He stretched the top of the dress enough to get his hand beneath the fabric to roam over Wonka's chest. Wonka breathed deeply; his chest rising, causing Charlie's hand to be locked between his flesh and the tight clothing. A hot, wet tongue found its way onto the man's cheek. It slid to his neck and made enough of an impact to make Wonka quake.

Wonka's fingers twitched. They wanted to grab hold of Charlie's arm and push the lad's hand deeper into his outfit. However, Wonka kept himself in check. He knew his role for this time: Be Charlie's subordinate. An unspoken conclusion had passed between them. Wonka comprehended that he was to do practically nothing, and Charlie was to take charge.

"Don't even think about trying to get away," Charlie whispered, his voice dripping with insatiable yearning.

Wonka tilted his head slightly and replied equally as quiet, "I would never."

Charlie removed his eager hand and guided Wonka toward the chair; still holding the blade to the chocolatier's flesh. A small smirk quirked the edges of Wonka's thin lips. He was thoroughly enjoying Charlie being so controlling this time.

Charlie sat and put the knife nearby. Wonka continued to stand as he waited for further instruction.

"Treat me, Candy Man," Charlie directed.

Wonka squinted as he pondered what to do, then grinned cleverly. His lilac orbs were tainted with hunger, burned with desire, filled with delight. He unclipped the barrettes from his hair and tossed them over his shoulder one by one. The chestnut locks became disheveled as he let his hands destroy the perfect way it had rested against his face. He straddled Charlie's waist and moved his hips back and forth like he was riding Charlie. Charlie found himself growing incredibly hard. Wonka never let his eyes stray from the lad's. His face bore a sinful smile all the while, and Charlie was helplessly entranced by it.

The white gloves that clad Wonka's hands came off, and he unbuttoned his heir's shirt. He giggled in a low tone when Charlie emitted a husky groan. He grinded against the teen, letting out an involuntary whimper from the surprising satisfaction it gave him.

Suddenly, Wonka stood, leaving Charlie wanting more. Wonka ran his own hands over the front of his own body, soft noises of pleasure escaping his lips as he did so, twirled around, and then pounced on Charlie once again. He proceeded to give his heir a lap dance. Charlie figured Wonka to be just as great as the best stripper in the world. The chocolatier executed his moves fantastically. Apparently exotic dancing was another huge talent of his.

Charlie's breathing grew ragged. His erection throbbed painfully.

When Wonka finished, he was forced to be seated on Charlie's knees, turned around so that his back rested against the lad's chest. Charlie slithered his hands between the man's fishnet clad legs and let them travel upward. Wonka gasped and threw his head back; trembling slightly when the fingers reached his own aroused manhood. Charlie bit his ear gently.

"You are so naughty," Charlie breathed.

"You made me that way, little boy."

"And you've made me so-" Wonka cried out as Charlie's hand grabbed his erection tightly through the thin layer of clothing covering that part of his body. "-Active and dirty."

Wonka seized hold of Charlie's arms and shoved them away to abruptly resituate himself yet again to face the teen. He leaned back, showing off amazing flexibility, and waited for Charlie to take the invite. The eighteen-year-old took the bait, and his palms explored the chocolatier's upper body. They journeyed over Wonka's clothed chest and stomach and stretched neck, gathering a better idea of what he would be feeling in a short bit when he would strip Wonka entirely.

Charlie pulled Wonka back up and attacked his smooth throat with his lips. Wonka wrapped his arms around the lad. He moaned quietly as Charlie sucked and nibbled his flesh. He knew not to try and kiss Charlie on the lips; it was a rule they each played by when committing an act of lust, not love. This had been declared an act of lust.

Charlie threw his lover to the floor, snatched up his knife, and cut the front lacings of Wonka's dress with fast expertise. Wonka's legs were spread; he watched Charlie, who was perched in between them, with excited eyes. Charlie ripped open the chocolatier's clothing to expose his bare chest and then pulled the man's skirt up.

"Why don't you try getting the garter off, Mr. Insistent?" Wonka questioned, amused.

He extended his right leg and Charlie lowered his head to the slender thigh. The lad slowly removed the item from Wonka's leg with his teeth and flung it aside.

"Does this make us married now?" Charlie inquired curiously.

"Well……we could pretend to be so right now and consider this the honeymoon."

"Sure. I'll go for that."

"Then let's do what those people outside the factory do when they've just gotten married."

Charlie grinned and tugged Wonka's lace underwear down to his ankles. He undid his own trousers after and pulled them down along with his boxers. Wonka felt like he was on fire. He wanted Charlie to claim him; claim what the other ticket winners had failed to do. He wanted to be fucked by the one that stole his heart and caught his eye the very first time he had come in contact with the boy: Charlie Bucket.

Charlie traced a path from Wonka's navel to his neck with the blade. He made a small cut on the chocolatier's throat and growled, "Don't even think about trying to get away."

As Charlie licked the trickle of blood away, Wonka smiled evilly and replied, "I would never."

Wonka grabbed the knife from Charlie and threw it at the wall. It sheathed itself in the wood paneling of the bedroom doorway just as Charlie penetrated Wonka and made his lover scream.

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A/N: Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. 


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